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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28887900">To Do:</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShitpostingfromtheBarricade/pseuds/TrollingfromtheBarricade'>TrollingfromtheBarricade (ShitpostingfromtheBarricade)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Les Misérables - All Media Types, Untitled Goose Game (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Barricade Day, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Second person POV, Winter card exchange, goose pov, horrible geese say Fuck the Police, if canon era had a horrible goose, in which the reader is a horrible goose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:42:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>459</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28887900</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShitpostingfromtheBarricade/pseuds/TrollingfromtheBarricade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>On the eve and morning of the 5th of June, the day set for Lamarque’s funeral, the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, which the procession was to skirt, took on an intimidating aura.  </p>
<p>It is a rainy day in Paris, and you are a horrible goose.</p>
<p><b>Warnings:</b> None</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>To Do:</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alasse_Irena/gifts">Alasse_Irena</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For <a href="alasse-irena.tumblr.com">alasse-irena</a> as part of our Discorinthe Winter Card Exchange!!  I did far more research for this than I should have but am ultimately quite pleased and hope you enjoy it.  &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On the eve and morning of the 5th of June, the day set for Lamarque’s funeral, the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, which the procession was to skirt, took on an intimidating aura.  That tumultuous network of streets was teeming with rumors.  Men armed themselves as best they could.  Some carpenters carried their bench claw “to smash in the doors.”  One of them had made a dagger out of a buttonhook by breaking off the tip and sharpening the stump.  In the fever “to attack,” another had slept for three nights fully dressed.  </p>
<p>It is a rainy day in Paris, and you are a horrible goose.</p>
<p>In the streets, uniformed men walk with one another in straight, orderly lines.  A tented platform moves in unison among them, its curtain raised high above the heads of everyone, and on either side of the procession people in plainclothes watch on with a solemn reverence.  It is the perfect scene.</p>
<p>You flap your wings and charge the parade head-on.</p>
<p>The soldiers in front flee your onslaught, but those still carrying the hearse hold their ground, continuing as though they do not see you.  It is no matter.  You pick at the shoelaces of one until he trips, those behind and to the opposite side of him falling in sync.  </p>
<p>Before he can recover, you grab his sabre, dragging it to a nearby shop.  There is a basket of sabres near the door with blunted blades, and you drop the soldier’s sabre in favor of one of these.  It is this sabre that the soldier grabs when he finally arrives at the doorway to the shop, making loud sounds and big gestures at you until you honk and charge him.  He is quiet after that, spitting at the ground between you before returning to his post.</p>
<p>It is too late: the plainclothes have joined in on your rampage.  Left and right once-peaceful onlookers now take up arms against uniformed officers.  In the midst of the chaos, a man with golden hair approaches you.  He looks untouched by the events transpiring around you, but for some unplaceable reason you cannot bring yourself to act against him.</p>
<p>He kneels down before you.  “You have done a great service to the Republic,” he tells you sincerely, pressing fresh lips against your feathered forehead before standing once more and disappearing into the crowd.  You have never understood human-speech before now, but you sense that there is something special about this one.</p>
<p>You are a horrible goose, but some days you feel a little less horrible.</p>
<p></p><blockquote><p>
    <b>to do:</b>
  </p><ul>
<li><s>make a soldier carry a toy sword</s></li>
<li>steal a loaf of bread</li>
<li><s>knock over the coffin</s></li>
<li>have breakfast</li>
(bring to the wine shop: oysters, brie, beer, brandy, absinthe, a spoon)
<li><s>* start a revolution</s></li>
</ul>
<p>
    <b></b>
  </p></blockquote>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey friends!  If you liked this, <i>please</i> drop me a comment down below or hit me up at <a href="shitpostingfromthebarricade.tumblr.com">tumblr</a>!!  I really love hearing from you.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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